LYING          
          IN    MY   ROOM,          
  ARMS FLOPPED OVER THE EDGE OF THE BED. 
      SOMETHING  POKING  MY LEFT HAND, 
                 SOMETHING      SLIMY, 
      SLITHERING AROUND  THE  FINGERS, 
          UP   THE   ARM.           
 IS  IT   DRUG-FUELED  APATHY?         
         I   DON'T   MOVE   THE   ARM. 
                                 
 WHATEVER IT IS THAT'S  TASTING ME,    
 IT   MOVES    FURTHER   UP,           
 REACHES    THE    ARMPIT.             
 I   TURN  MY  HEAD  TOWARD  IT.       
             LOOKS   LIKE    SEAGRASS. 
          IT'S   KINDA  CUTE.       
                                 
    ONCE IT'S UP MY  NECK  AND  ON  MY 
 FACE,    I    BITE    IT.             
     THE  TEXTURE IS  LIKE  THAT OF  A 
 JUICY                          GRAPE, 
    AND THE  SQUISH TASTES LIKE  SWEET 
                     CUCUMBER.     
    IT'S  VERY GOOD.    AND I    
 SUCK   MORE   OF    IT   IN.          
             CHEW    IT.            
    THE SEAGRASS DOESN'T SEEM TO MIND. 
                                 
      APATHY  GONE,   I  SIT  UP.     
     THE  TENDRILS  ARE STUCK UNDER   
   MY SHIRT,     ENTERING  BY THE ARM 
 AND EXITING  THROUGH  THE  COLLAR.     
     THIS MAKES IT HARD FOR ME  TO PUSH 
 MORE   OF   IT   IN   MY   MOUTH.      
   I MAKE TO REMOVE THE  SHIRT, BUT THE 
 SEAGRASS FINALLY PROTESTS WHEN I  TRY TO 
 MOVE     MY     LEFT     ARM.          
      SO  -   EATING  IT  IS  OK,     
        MOVING  IT IS NOT.